


Breaking Down

by chipfics



Series: In Hand, in Mind [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Inquisitor Siblings AU, Pre-Relationship, pls note that mtrevelyan is the herald here and ftrevelyan is eventually the inquisitor, this is an au!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24139321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chipfics/pseuds/chipfics
Summary: Set in an AU where the male and female trevelyan are siblings, after the attack on Haven and before the Herald reunites with the Inquisition.Cullen is worried about Alyssa. She hasn't said a word about the loss of her brother. And then he finds her going to pieces all alone, and his heart breaks a little. Pre-relationship, a little pining, but mostly hurt/comfort.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Series: In Hand, in Mind [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741927
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Breaking Down

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:
> 
> -Alyssa Trevelyan is a mage, the eventual Inquisitor, and 30 years old. I put Cullen at 32.  
> -Tristan Trevelyan is a warrior, the Herald, and 25.
> 
> -This is pretty heavily AU in some ways, as the trevelyans are siblings and a Lavellan Dalish is also involved in the story. If you aren't into AUs much this won't be for you.

Haven was two days behind them now.

The survivors trudged through the mountains, carting along injured who couldn't walk, using supplies as sparingly as they could. They had gotten away with a lot all things considered- but there was no telling how long it would be before they could find a place to resupply.

Cullen was worried.

For all they knew, Tristan Trevelyan was dead. Their Herald. Tristan was a bear of a man- tall, strong, swung his greatsword like it was made of paper. He was formidable and brave and loyal, a good man. A friend.

But he was mostly concerned about Tristan's sister.

Alyssa was small and spindly, not at all in build like her brother but sharing his freckles, green eyes and messy orange hair. She was a mage, distrusted by the people at first but now relied on because Tristan had trusted her so wholly, deferring always to her judgment.

She hadn't cried. Hadn't spoken about it.

Blackwall had to physically _drag_ her away from Tristan, he had been told. She had screamed and fought him at first, but given up on trying to go back to him by the time they met up with Cullen in the pass to tell him the trebuchets had succeeded and Haven was buried...and that Tristan had stayed behind to stall the archdemon and Corypheus.

From what he knew now, the Trevelyan siblings had not seen each other since the fall of the Ostwick Circle. Tristan had rescued his sister from Templars and gotten her out of the city. She had spent the next several years with the Dalish Lavellan clan, whose lead hunter was now one of the Inquisition's scouts. She had only sent occasional short messages home to her family to let them know she was alive, and had reunited with Tristan at the Conclave. She was thirty now, and he was- had been- twenty-five.

They had a much older brother too- Roland, Cullen recalled. He was still in Ostwick with their parents.

Still, Alyssa's lack of reaction to anything concerned him. She was throwing herself into directing the actions of the survivors. When the rest of them fell to bickering she cut in with objective reasoning and got them moving forward again. She was very good at it- a natural leader, really. And it wasn't bad that she was working to help, not at all.

But Cullen thought of her as a friend, now. She was sometimes wary of people, but had opened up more and more over the recent months. Her spirit was gentle and her heart had room in it for everyone she met. She hated to see people suffering and did a lot of work in the infirmary putting her healing magic to good use. She was still doing so now.

It was dark. Middle of the night. They were sending occasional rear patrols- just in case, Leliana said. Just on the off chance any stragglers were trying to catch up, or in case they had been followed. Cullen would be going out in the next one, but that was not until the next evening.

He found Alyssa behind the infirmary tent, shivering in her cloak. No, no- as he got closer he knew better. She was sobbing. He could hear her, see her shoulders shuddering as she wept into her hands.

A little bit of his heart splintered. She always put up such a strong countenance. Even her smiles were carefully guarded, and she was rarely very emotional, though often lighthearted or glib in her banter with others.

He had never seen her break down, and that she was doing so alone now, in the middle of the night- it bothered him.

Cullen wasn't good at comforting, wasn't good at knowing how to deal with emotional people. But Alyssa deserved better than to spend her tears and her grief all alone. He approached.

“Lady Trevelyan,” He said quietly, just loud enough for her to choke back a sob and look up abruptly.

She wiped her face, immediately trying to look presentable and put together. He frowned.

“Cullen,” She said, voice still watery, “Oh, I'm so sorry you found me like this. What do you need?”

“Nothing,” Cullen returned, and he stopped just in front of her. He unwound the scarf he was wearing and put it around her neck instead. “I just wanted to see how you were holding up. I got my answer.”

“I didn't want to break down in front of my patients,” Alyssa admitted quietly, “Or anyone else. Everyone is suffering enough without me making a scene.”

Cullen frowned more deeply. “You have more right than anyone to be grieving,” He said. His voice felt gentle, not like the harsh weather they were experiencing. “You've nothing to be ashamed of.”

She took a shuddering breath in and then tears streamed down her face again. “Cullen, I-”

She reached a hand up, chapped from the cold and covered in freckles like every other part of her. She gripped the front of his cloak.

“He was my baby brother,” She whispered pitifully, “I'm supposed to protect him. Not the other way around. He's not supposed to die for me. He's not supposed to-”

A series of sudden, quiet sobs broke out of her and Cullen felt a pain in his chest.

Alyssa had a strong, fearless spirit. She threw herself forward no matter what the obstacle and really, the Inquisition might have fallen apart without her working so hard to propel it forward with her.

It was wrong that she had felt like she couldn't be seen grieving. Like it would _cause a scene_. Everyone was crying now. Everyone was struggling. She should be allowed the same luxury, shouldn't she?

He wondered where Allain was- the Dalish hunter who had befriended her and escorted her to the Conclave. Still working with the scouts, probably. Still, Alyssa would normally open up to him more, wouldn't she? Could she not even cry in front of someone she had known for years?

There was a long moment where Cullen couldn't move, heart aching for his friend, but then he realized there was something he could do, even if it would feel...strange. Awkward.

He drew Alyssa into his arms. Gentle at first. But when she curled into him easily, fully, clung to his shirt and wailed, he squeezed. Held her tightly. He couldn't imagine how he would feel if one of his own siblings lost their life trying to protect him.

For several minutes he stood and held her. She was so small and fragile feeling in his arms. Sometimes he forgot just how tiny Alyssa was. The confidence she carried herself with meant that her presence was much bigger than her physical body. Her wild and strong magic also made her a force to be dealt with in a fight. But really, she was hardly over five feet and didn't eat enough. Thin, spindly, small. And there was no telling how much smaller she felt right now.

Eventually she tired herself out and the gasps came slower and her breathing steadied a little. Cullen had begun rubbing the small of her back at some point without really thinking about it. She had felt frigid when he first hugged her but was feverish now from the crying.

She tugged herself away from him but kept her hands fisted in his shirt. He moved his hands to her shoulders.

“I'm so sorry for all that,” She said quietly, “...but I think I needed it. Thank you.”

“You aren't alone, Alyssa.” Cullen said without thinking. But he meant it.

Alyssa wiped a few leftover tears from her face. The smile she gave him was weak, shaky, but deeply grateful. “You're a very sweet man, you know.” She remarked with a crack in her voice.

The compliment caught him off guard. She teased him sometimes, even flirted a bit. It was a terror to deal with, but this wasn't teasing or flirting. It was from the heart, her eyes soft despite the redness around the lids. Cullen found himself grateful the cold had already flushed his face before.

“I- hm. Thank you,” He managed, and coughed. He had to tear his hands away from her shoulders.

He told himself, not for the first time, that this wasn't the time. Never the time, never the place. The teasing and flirting was just her way of bantering with people, he would tell himself, ignoring entirely that she never offered comments along those lines to anyone but him.

His arms missed having her in them, he realized quite suddenly. Oh, that was very bad. He inhaled deeply then exhaled.

“Are you going to be all right?” He finally asked.

“For now,” Alyssa said with a wan smile, “I think I got most of it out. I'll...I'll go and try to sleep for a while.”

Cullen nodded, and they parted. With some guilt, he tried to push away the thought of how small and soft she was when he was holding her, and how nice that had been.

He prayed. Silently, desperately, that Tristan had by some miracle survived. For Alyssa's sake, if no one else's.


End file.
